


Babies in Arms

by morrezela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:53:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam’s need to hump Dean’s arm gets them into trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babies in Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Wincest, Arm!Preg, MPreg, Utter CRACK! Also, Season 8 spoilers through episode one.
> 
> A/N: So I was wasting time on the internet, and I read tebtosca’s recap of Supernatural 8.1. While I don’t have a kink bingo card going, I do have a hurt/comfort one. And, well, I can’t blame her, but I want it clear that I am purloining her ideas and creativity. Just so you all know what a goddamned idea thief I can be.
> 
> All mistakes you find are my own.

“I’m sorry,” Sam was aware that his voice was taking a vaguely pleading tone. “Dean, please, this isn’t my fault.”

Dean’s expression said he very much disagreed with that. “You,” he said with a vicious jab of his finger in Sam’s direction, “just had to indulge in your fucking kinks. Just had to have it, didn’t you? And now look at me!”

“I didn’t know,” Sam whined. “How was I supposed to know this would happen?”

Dean didn’t respond to that, and Sam took it as the win that he thought it was.

“There will be no more rubbing off on my extremities, you get that? No more leg humping or, or shoulder blade frottage and definitely no more forearm fucking. You hear me, Sammy? God given erogenous zones only,” Dean ordered sternly.

“It’s not my fault,” Sam reminded him again. And, okay, so yes he was desperate to get out of the doghouse that he’d gotten himself into, but he wasn’t going to take full blame.

He’d been so happy to see Dean. All those months without his brother, not knowing where he’d poofed to when Dick Roman was killed had worn on him. He hadn’t been himself.

Sure there had been a little bit of angry sex involved. But Dean knew that monster killing was necessary. Benny was a vampire. Beheading him again was justified. As far as Sam was concerned, humping his brother’s arm scar to remind him exactly who had a right to that arm was completely justified. Benny didn’t belong there, and that was that.

Besides, Sam had his fetishes, okay? Non-traditional frottage points were completely okay. It was supposed to be both safe and kinky. How was he supposed to know that jizzing all over his brother’s forearm was going to lead to this?

“Do you even know how fucking humiliating this is for me?” Dean hissed.

“No?” Sam offered.

“That’s right. You don’t. You don’t because you were busy being stupid,” Dean accused as he rubbed his fingertips over the very noticeable lump on his arm.

“You can’t blame me for this,” Sam said. “It takes two to tango.”

“It only takes one to castrate, Sammy,” Dean growled low and threatening.

Normally Sam would ignore that comment, but Dean had been rather emotional and violent as of late. It was best to tread lightly.

“It won’t be so bad,” Sam assured his brother, deciding to take up a different tactic.

“Sam, your spawn is growing inside of my goddamned arm. I don’t know how much more mortifying it can actually get, but I’m damned sure that this is somehow worse than being an angel vessel destined for the end of the world.”

“It is not,” Sam argued. “Besides, nobody else needs to know about it.”

“Too many people already know,” Dean huffed. “I’m a freak. You infected me with your freakishness.”

“Hey!” Sam protested. “I’m not the one who was carrying vampire essence inside of him!”

“You’re also not the one carrying Sammy Winchester essence inside of him, or… whatever. You know what I mean. If you had just fucking found me, I wouldn’t have had to get out of Purgatory the way I did.”

“So this is all my fault now?”

“Yes, yes it is. Happy? I am blaming you for causing me to be poked and prodded and inspected because I have a fucking baby in my goddamned arm because somebody I know has more fetishes than a Zuni collector.”

“At least nobody will believe them,” Sam pointed out. The fact that somebody at the hospital was going to leak the news of the ‘baby’ tumor to a tabloid was inevitable. There was always somebody who ignored patient confidentiality in favor of a quick paycheck. “And they don’t know it’s, you know, alive yet. They’re still thinking it’s your heartbeat and the cell arrangement is weird and… Dean quit looking at me like you want to stab me.”

“Sam, just stop talking, okay?” Dean growled as he swung his feet out of the bed, cradling his Popeye-esque arm to his stomach as he went. “We need to find a nice, non-hospital place and a knife. And, like, doll clothes or something.”

“You’re going to cut it out yourself?” Sam asked.

“No, my dumbass brother is going to cut it out. Then he is going to give it a nice bath with holy water and salt in a silver and iron tub. Then he is going to bless it in as many languages as his stupid brain holds. And if it doesn’t sizzle and burst into flames, he is going to spend the rest of his life paying me child support for HAVING HIS FUCKING ARM BABY!”

“I don’t have to pay you child support when we live in the same car together,” Sam told him.

“Shut up Mr. Lawyer,” Dean growled as he stretched his shirt around the lump that was his arm baby. “Just be glad that this, this whatever it is hasn’t broken my ulna with its weight. And be doubly glad that it looks all fully formed in its mini state so I don’t have man pain over possibly killing my child. Assuming that it isn’t evil or something. I have reached my quota on having evil children. One is enough.”

“Did you just say, ‘man pain’?”

“Sammy, I’m still not above castrating you. It was a very long year in Purgatory, and I’m not in the mood.”


End file.
